


Just Show Your Face

by KD (AbstractSong101)



Category: Glee
Genre: Catfishing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3441524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbstractSong101/pseuds/KD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt finds a friend in the Show Choir chat rooms, but all is not as it seems. AU in which Kurt never visited/ joined Dalton. Set around season 3. Written for <a href="http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/50716.html?thread=64407068%22">this</a> prompt on the GKM, with slight changes to the prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Show Your Face

Kurt smiled to himself as he started up his laptop. While school had never been a happy place for him, on Glee Club days he was normally happy to spend a little longer there.

These days, however, he had something to rush home for.

Blaine.

He’d met Blaine in an online chatroom, a site where show choir kids could get together and talk – anonymously or otherwise. Kurt had been quiet initially, not wanting to put New Directions at any more of a disadvantage than they already were. He occasionally interjected with comments, though, and Blaine had reached out to him in a private message, commending him on his humor, and the friendship had blossomed from there.

They had stuck to the website to talk at first, the anonymity it provided a welcome cover for Kurt. He’d sat through enough tedious internet safety assemblies at McKinley to know that sticking behind a username was the best way to stay secure.

Blaine had eventually offered up his surname, and Kurt’s fingers had hovered over the Google search bar for longer than he would care to admit before he finally typed the name in.

The results came back immediately, and he quickly found the guy he’d been talking to. His Facebook profile was private, but Kurt could see enough to know that he was genuine. He had well over three hundred friends, and his cover picture was of him and the Dalton Academy Warblers.

Kurt had decided to offer Blaine the same information, although he felt it was likely unnecessary – New Directions didn’t have many members to choose from, let alone openly gay members. They hadn’t added each other on Facebook – Blaine had suggested it may look like they were fraternizing with the enemy. Kurt had told him the story of Rachel and Jesse St James, and agreed with the decision completely.

He tapped out a light rhythm on the keyboard as he waited for the other boy to come online.

He surfed a few other sites while he was waiting, pulling up a video of the Warblers on YouTube to play in the background while he did some homework.

Finally, after what felt like an age, his chat pinged.

_Teenage Dream: Hi! Sorry I’m late, Warbler rehearsal ran over. Set list arguments._

_Defying Gravity: Ugh, I know how that feels. We never solidify ours until the last minute. So annoying._

_Teenage Dream: I had heard that about ND._

_Defying Gravity: The joke of the show choir world, I knew it!_

_Teenage Dream: With a few bright sparks._

_Defying Gravity: Flatterer._

_Teenage Dream: :)_

_Defying Gravity: So, what’s on the homework agenda for tonight?_

_Teenage Dream: Calc and Spanish._

_Defying Gravity: I have Biology and American History. I’ll help you with your Spanish if you help with my History?_

_Teenage Dream: Deal._

They worked together, discussing music choices which complimented homework, as well as the occasional question about the work they were doing. Blaine was only a junior, but private school education meant that he was generally on-par with anything Kurt was learning.

Kurt checked the time and sighed, pushing his lab report away from him.

_Defying Gravity: I need to go and start dinner now. Will you be online later?_

_Teenage Dream: Probably not. Tonight is movie night._

_Defying Gravity: Ah, okay. Tomorrow?_

_Teenage Dream: Sure._

Kurt went to type a goodbye, but stopped. The chat window indicated Blaine was still typing, and he didn’t want to cut anything off.

_Teenage Dream: Maybe we could exchange numbers? Then we don’t have to be bound by internet access and this site?_

Kurt hesitated. Internet safety 101 dictated that exchanging any more personal information was a bad idea, but he was so lonely sometimes. He had the girls, but Blaine was… different.

_Defying Gravity: Okay._

He quickly typed in his number, and then gave a quick goodbye – he really was late to start dinner, and he didn’t want to give his dad and Finn an excuse to order takeout.

Blaine sent him a text him that night, a quick message so that Kurt had his number, too. Kurt started at it for much too long, eventually saving his number and replying in kind.

* * *

   
As time went on, Kurt’s contact with Blaine became more and more regular. He learned Blaine’s timetable, more by accident than design. He knew the times Blaine was most likely to message him, and he would actively seek out solitude at those times, wanting to spend as much time as possible with the other boy.

The texts were mainly based around school and a little of their lives outside of schoolwork – Blaine told Kurt stories he wasn’t sure he believed from Dalton, and Kurt spoke a little of his home life, still adjusting to all the changes that had fallen in the last year.

Kurt tried to avoid talk of their respective show choirs, keeping a line between their friendship and their show choir rivalry. He’d noticed Blaine was a little less hesitant, asking the occasional question about the songs that New Directions were rehearsing. It was always casual, though, and he never probed further, so Kurt didn’t mind handing over a few details every now and then. It wasn’t like Mr. Schuester ever had a game plan, anyway.

Blaine first sent a picture of himself while Kurt was in English. In the picture, he was smiling and waving at the camera, while utter chaos reigned in the background, and the caption informed Kurt that their supply teacher had not yet shown up to take control of their lesson.

Kurt stared at the picture for longer than he probably should have dared when he was supposed to be paying attention to Mr. Bradbury droning on about Shakespeare. He’d always imagined that the boys who attended Dalton were somehow not quite like other teenage boys – as if somehow they were born with less exuberance, or at least more control over themselves - but apparently, given enough freedom, they were exactly like most other people their age.

Shaking his head, Kurt slid his cell phone back into his bag before he was caught and the phone confiscated. He had study hall after his English class, and he fully intended to use it to study the picture more thoroughly.

It was a couple more weeks before he summed up the courage to send Blaine a picture back. Blaine had set a few more pictures since then, mostly of himself surrounded by friends, occasionally only one or two others in the photo.

Kurt found himself wanting more, he scoured the background of every picture he received for clues and insights into Blaine’s life.  There was frustratingly little to go on, though, the wood panels of Dalton remarkably intact despite the teenage boys which inhabited them.

He applied this obsessive level of detail to the picture he sent Blaine, choosing to send a picture of himself, Mercedes, and Rachel in the auditorium while they were waiting for Artie and Tina to perform. There was nothing in the background to give any clues as to what New Directions were rehearsing, and definitely nothing to give any more information about Kurt’s life beyond what he provided.

It was silly, but Blaine had always taken the lead in their friendship, and Kurt didn’t want to change up the dynamics. What if Blaine didn’t want to know any more about him? What if it was simply a friendship borne out of boredom on Blaine’s part? No, Kurt wasn’t willing to put himself out there and get burnt. He wasn’t going to be one of those idiots standing up in front of the Glee Club and singing a song about how heartbroken they were.

“What are you doing?” Mercedes asked, watching as he fiddled with his phone after the picture was taken.

Kurt hesitated. He hadn’t told any of his friends about Blaine, not wanting – or needing – their input on the situation.

“Just talking to a friend,” he whispered back.

“What friend?” Rachel demanded.

“Guys!” Mr. Schuester turned around in his chair to face them. Artie and Tina were approaching the stage, the band already in position. “Quiet.”

Kurt shrugged an apologetic shoulder at the girls, checking to see that his message had been sent before sliding his phone back into his bag. He resolved not to check it until Glee practice was over.

Sitting behind his steering wheel, he waved at the girls as they passed in Mercedes’ car. They’d stuck to him like glue after practice, and he hadn’t dared look at his phone for fear they’d pull the whole story from him.

Now, though, he was finally alone.

Blaine had replied.

_Looking good, Hummel!_

Kurt flushed. He replied with a simple smiley face, not having enough time to compose a more eloquent reply before he saw Finn barreling towards the car. His phone safely hidden away, he drove them back home, letting Finn lead the conversation. He was having girl problems – wasn’t he always?  - and was content to talk at Kurt without any real need for Kurt to respond. He just needed to vent his frustrations.

For his part, Kurt was content to hum and nod whenever he felt it necessary, his mind mainly focused on Blaine.

As soon as they were home, Kurt booted up his laptop, leaving a message for Blaine, who was offline, to let him know that he was preparing dinner, and he’d be online soon.

The careful preparation always helped to calm Kurt, the methodical chopping of vegetables and precise measurements of ingredients was almost soothing to him.

By the time he returned to his laptop, he was relaxed, not worrying about the fact that he’d exchanged pictures with a boy – a gay boy – who had complimented him in return.

Blaine was online, and they exchanged pleasantries before settling into their homework routine. It was difficult to stay on task, though, and talk soon turned to the upcoming Regionals competition.

New Directions would be facing the Warblers in a mere month, and Kurt was equal parts terrified and excited to finally be in the same room as Blaine. They hadn’t spoken much about their plans for the competition – opposing teams were often kept separate before and during the performances, with no real chance to interact.

_Teenage Dream: How are rehearsals going? Derailed by complicated relationships?_

_Defying Gravity: Thankfully not. We save the bulk of our angst for the actual competition days._

_Teenage Dream: Can’t wait ;)_

Kurt laughed, pulling his concentration back to the book he was supposed to be reading for tomorrow. It was his agreement with himself, one message to Blaine,one page of the book. It was the only way he ever got anything done.

When he looked up, there was another message waiting.

_Teenage Dream: Hey so, I need some advice. The Warblers still haven’t chosen the soloists for Regionals yet, and I need audition for one of them. Would you mind listening to the songs and helping me decide? You have to promise not to tell any of your club, though!_

Information about set lists. It was the one thing they had avoided since they started talking, the ultimate betrayal of the trust give to them from their teams, but the ultimate offer of trust between them.

Kurt swallowed thickly before replying.

_Defying Gravity: Sure. I won’t tell any of ND, I promise._

Knowledge of the Warblers’ setlists could give the New Directions a huge advantage, but Blaine was the first true friend that Kurt had. Sure, he had the girls, and the guys in Glee Club tolerated him fine, but Blaine really understood him. They had shared experiences, and that was worth more than a trophy.

Blaine quickly sent a couple of links, one was a Katy Perry number, and the other was an eighties classic. That fitted in with everything that Kurt already knew about The Warblers, and he listened carefully, trying to figure which would work best with the voice he’d heard so many times on various YouTube videos.

_Defying Gravity: I think the Katy Perry one is best for you, although you’d kill it with either. Your comfort zone is Top 40, you’ll knock it out the park._

_Teenage Dream: That’s the one I was leaning towards. Thanks, Kurt!_

Kurt tried to concentrate on another page of his book, but gave it up as a bad job, pushing it to the back of his desk and sighing.

_Defying Gravity: We’re doing MJ. For Regionals. That’s top secret, but I want you to know I trust you, too._

_Teenage Dream: Well, it worked for you at Sectionals, I saw those videos!_

_Defying Gravity: Exactly! And we need all the help we can get, let’s be real._

He stood up from his desk and stretched, adrenaline flowing through him like he’d just faced a hungry lion. He half expected the whole of the New Directions to come bursting into his bedroom, ready to hurt him for disclosing their secrets, but the door remained blissfully shut. The world hadn’t imploded. He was okay, Blaine was okay.

* * *

   
Santana came flying into the choir room, her eyes full of rage. She threw her bag down on a chair, ignoring Mr. Schue’s pleas for her to calm down, and stood in front of the group.

“I can’t calm down. I just saw Sebastian Smythe at the Lima Bean. The Warblers are doing MJ for Regionals.”

Cries of disbelief and outrage reflected around the room. Kurt sat completely still, his head swimming.

“They’re on first, too. So they’ve got the advantage. He said we’ve got a leak, although he wouldn’t tell me who. I suggest torture as a method of finding out, and I volunteer to administer it. In fact, I demand it.”

Kurt’s stomach rolled, a wave of nausea passing over him as he tried to hold it together in front of everyone. He could feel tears threatening. How could Blaine have done this to him? He trusted him, and he’d thrown it back in his face.

He couldn’t even give the information he knew about The Warblers in response, it was redundant now, and it would alert the rest of the club to exactly who was the leak in the group.

Chaos reigned in the choir room, Puck promising bodily harm to every one of the Warblers – Finn and Mike not far behind him – and extra to whoever had betrayed them.

Mr. Schuester talked them down, pressed against the door to stop them from escaping and racing to Dalton.

“Okay,” he said, when everyone was quiet, if not calm. “We need a new gameplan. Revenge isn’t going to get us ready for Regionals, okay? The Warblers may have just made a lucky guess, or had someone sneak into the auditorium. The leak may not even be someone in the club.”

He suspected Coach Sue, Kurt could tell, and he felt almost guilty about the rush of relief which washed through him.

“This week’s assignment is cancelled. I want you all to go home, find some songs we could peform at Regionals, we’ll meet back here tomorrow and discuss them when everyone is calm. And if I hear of _anyone_ going to Dalton to confront The Warblers about this, you are off the team, do you all understand? We are above this.”

A murmur of reluctant agreement greeted his comments, and everyone grabbed their belongings. Finn was going to Puck’s house after school, and Kurt found himself rushing to his car, ignoring Mercedes who asked him to wait for her, wanting to be alone. His shaking hands would give him away, and the tears weren’t far behind.

He sent a simple text to Blaine – _How could you?_ – before switching his phone off and throwing it to the other side of the passenger seat. He didn’t want to hear from him.

As soon as he made it home, he deleted his account from the forum, not checking to see if Blaine had done the same. The thought of ever hearing from him again made Kurt want to vomit, and he went to sit in the bathroom with his phone.

There was no reply from Blaine.

He deleted his number and their message history, before stripping off and stepping into the shower, the noise of the water rushing loud enough that no one else in the house would be able to hear him cry.

* * *

   
It was the next weekend when he saw Blaine for the first time. He strode into the Lima Bean like he hadn’t a care in the world, and Kurt anger simmered, hotter than the coffee in his mug.

He’d ostensibly come to the coffee shop to do some work with a little extra caffeination, but he knew that this was a popular Warbler haunt. Occasional pictures had show Blaine here, and he had to see him. He had to know what was going on, and how Blaine could possibly have done that to him.

He was grateful to see that Blaine was alone, and he let the rage settle in his muscles, gearing himself up for a confrontation. While Blaine stood in line, he neatly packed his belongings away, draining the last of his coffee before moving outside to wait.

Blaine walked out, coffee in one hand, iPod in the other, and Kurt marched after him as he walked to his car.

He tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” he said, and then cringed. They were hardly fighting words.

Blaine didn’t turn immediately, pulling the earbuds from his ears.

“Hey!” Kurt said more insistently. That was better, show him who is in charge.

Finally, Blaine faced him a confused little smile on his face, and Kurt tried not to get lost in how goddamn _cute_ he was. He was an asshole, no matter how hot he was.

“Um, hi. Can I help you?”

Kurt found himself grateful he wasn’t still carrying his coffee, or else he might have thrown it all over Blaine.

“I’m Kurt.”

“I’m Blaine,” he replied, bemused.

“Kurt Hummel,” Kurt said. What an asshole this guy was.

Blaine regarded him evenly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what was going on, and Kurt felt his anger increase further.

“Kurt Hummel,” he repeated. “The guy you tricked into giving out our Regionals setlist? The guy you talked to for months, gaining my trust only to utterly betray me? Remember?”

He could feel tears threatening once again, and he blinked them away, furious with himself, and with Blaine, and this whole situation.

Blaine frowned. “You’re from New Directions?”

“Yes, you asshole,” Kurt bit out.

Blaine shook his head, reaching out to rub Kurt’s arm. Kurt recoiled, and Blaine bit his lip, helplessly looking around.

“Kurt, I have never spoken to you in my life.”

Kurt’s eyes widened, and he felt a few traitorous tears fall. This guy, this guy who had been _so_ important to him for so long, who had betrayed him so horribly, and now he was acting like this? How dare he?

Shaking with fury, Kurt stepped back. “You’re such an asshole. Why can’t you just be honest, or is it a fundamental part of your personality to lie at all times?”

“Kurt,” he said, almost pleading now. “I swear to you, I have never spoken to you in my life.” He paused, frowning down at his coffee. “I think I might know what’s happened, though. Will you allow me to buy you a drink, and we can talk?”

Kurt weighed his options. Blaine seemed genuine, which was at odds with everything he now believed about him. He had time, he could hear him out. The least Blaine could do was buy him a drink.

“I’ll have a grande non-fat mocha. I need to use the bathroom, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Using the time in the bathroom to check his face and calm down a little, Kurt also checked his phone for messages, trying not to be reminded of the time he would wait excitedly to hear anything from Blaine.

When he reemerged, Blaine was sitting at a table, two drinks in front of him, and frowning at his phone.

“Thanks,” Kurt said quietly, as he slipped into the seat across from him.

Blaine smiled up at him, placing his phone face down on the table. “I didn’t add anything to it, I wasn’t sure how you took it.”

“This is fine, thanks.”

An awkward silence lay over them, and Blaine grimaced.

“I really don’t know for sure what’s going on, Kurt, but I want you to know that I haven’t been talking to you online, or in any other way.”

Kurt frowned. “But I met you on the Show Choir forum. You sent me pictures of yourself.”

Blaine looked as confused as Kurt felt. “I am on that forum, but I don’t really talk to anyone individually. I hardly ever have time to be on there, I have a whole pile of extra-curriculars.  My school bag is in my car, if you need more proof. My schedule is in there somewhere.”

“What’s your username on there?”

Blaine grinned an embarrassed grin. “Gelled to perfection. Wes came up with it, not me. It’s kinda stuck, though.”

Kurt looked at Blaine’s hair and had to agree that the name fitted well.

“I was talking to someone called Teenage Dream. They said they were you.”

“They weren’t me, I swear.”

Blaine was so earnest, Kurt was desperate to believe him. There was so much evidence to the contrary. “But the pictures?”

“I can’t explain them, I’m sorry. Do you still have them? Maybe they were taken from my Facebook profile?”

“I deleted everything when…” Kurt trailed off, looking at this adorable boy opposite him. He steeled himself, the Warblers found their setlist once. If Blaine could lie over the internet, he could most likely do it in person, too. “When you betrayed me.”

“How did I betray you?” Blaine asked, fingers worrying at the lid of his drink. “What happened?”

“You know what happened.” Kurt tried to keep his voice quiet, worried that some members of New Directions were lurking around the corners. “I told you our setlist for Regionals and you stole it.”

Blaine’s face fell, hurt plain in his eyes. “I didn’t, I would never…”

“What?” Kurt demanded.

“One of our members insisted we change our setlist last week. Said it would really help us win. He’s pretty popular so the Warbler Council agreed.”

“Who?”

“Just let me… you said you guys exchanged pictures, right? Do you still have the number you were messaging?”

“No. But it ended in 493, I remember that.”

Blaine sighed and picked his phone up. He fiddled with it for a few seconds and Kurt tried not to tap irritably on the table. Blaine turned the phone to face him, and Kurt took a few seconds to take it all in.

It was open on a contact screen, a name and number visible, as well as a picture of Blaine with another Warbler. A picture Kurt had seen before. The name was Sebastian Smythe. The number was the one that Kurt had been exchanging messages with.

“He’s the one who told Santana you guys were doing MJ, too,” he gulped out. “I told him everything.” He could feel tears welling up again, he’d put his entire life out there for this guy and absolutely everything he’d got in return was a lie.

Blaine sighed. “I think he had a whole gameplan. I’m so sorry that you got dragged into this, Kurt. He’s a charmer, but he’s a snake, too.”

Kurt’s mind spun, trying to make sense of all the information thrown at him.

“I don’t understand why he had to pretend to be you, though?”

“Neither do I, except Sebastian has a certain reputation. Maybe he was worried you’d find out and not trust him.” Blaine took Kurt’s hand, and Kurt startled at the gesture. “I’m honestly so sorry, Kurt. I’ll go to the Warbler Council on Monday and tell them what has been going on. You guys can have MJ, and Sebastian will be dealt with, I promise you.”

“I think we’re going to go a different direction now, but thank you for the thought.”

“A New Direction?” Blaine teased gently.

Kurt rolled his eyes. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to regain his composure, and sat back in his chair, studying Blaine. He allowed himself to drink in the sight. Photographs really hadn't done him justice, Blaine was breathtakingly beautiful.

“So then," he said, taking a quick sip of his coffee. "Tell me about the real Blaine Anderson.”  
 

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted [here](http://klainedrabbles.tumblr.com/post/112151541280/just-show-your-face)


End file.
